Pride Angel Journey - Extremes

I’ve always been one for extremes: things are black and white, no shades of grey for me. But childhood or parenthood or the place where the two meet is something else.
If you’re looking for opposites, polarisation, antithesis, oxymoron, juxtaposition, then get a small child, or ideally two. You will instantly have enough love, joy and hilarity to last a small village fifty years. Meanwhile any supply you previously had of energy, patience and sanity will immediately vanish without trace.
When they sleep there is the peace of a deserted mountain range, still and reliable and changeless. Until, seconds later they wake with all the noise and chaos of a street market, making imaginative demands like a petulant fairytale king. And then they sleep. And then they wake…
There will be a bountiful supply of mess. Time to clear it up will be measurable in milliseconds. Or in minus hours or minus days…weeks...months…
Because really, the problem is time. If only we could spread this love, joy, hilarity, energy, patience, sanity, sleep, noise, chaos, mess over a lifetime. But what we have is a jumbled few years of extremity and then if we’re careful to preserve them, a lifetime of memories.
Article: by Lindsey, West Yorkshire 10th December 2015

Pride Angel Journey - Newspaper cuttings

October 18, 2015 18:41 by PrideAngelAdmin

Every couple of months we pile into the car and land two hours later (or up to four hours depending on the number of potty, nappy, milky, lost toy, food, unstuck sun-blind, sick stops required) at my parents’ house for a few nights. While the children settle in by strewing around the house handfuls of 1970’s/80’s toys, revived from a third-of-a-century hibernation in the loft, I unpack the case and leaf through the dozen or so newspaper cuttings my mum has left for me on the bedside table. An advertisement for chewable toothbrushes for babies, a piece from the local paper about a girl I went to school with…and an article from The Telegraph earlier this year entitled: ‘Is it time to question the ethics of donor conception’. (Of course for some this would be a fairly clear message about their parents’ feelings on donor conception – I, though, simply saw this as a matter of my mum seeing the phrase ‘donor conception’ and automatically reaching for her scissors).
Well, I’ll be honest, it wasn’t an encouraging read, especially since the negative views stressed were those of donor-conceived children of the past forty years or so. And it made me realise that no matter how hard we try to provide opportunities, role models, how hard we try to get it right, there may still come a day when, for example, we need to listen with love and acknowledgement and acceptance to the remonstrances of a furious or miserable adolescent who wants a dad.
But if any part of me starts to question the ethics of our decision to use donor conception, I just need to look at these two beautiful children – beautiful people and remember that outside of donor conception, they couldn’t exist. They are, as we all are, part of that tiny number, those lucky few, that one in a million and something chance of a particular egg and sperm meeting because chance just happened to mean that both were in a certain place at a certain time while some number stretching to infinity tells of the sperm/egg combinations that did never, can never, will never occur. And as the even more unlikely combination of a lesbian woman’s egg and a heterosexual man’s sperm, a lesbian woman and heterosexual man whose lives in no way overlapped until Pride Angel, chance must surely be on their side...
Article: by Lindsey, West Yorkshire 18th October 2015

Pride Angel Journey | Born yesterday

I swallowed two paracetamol tablets in a vain attempt to shift the heavy pain that had settled across my right eye, and shuffled, bleary-eyed, into the lounge of the birth centre, where I found Sally holding our baby. After sleeping through the visits of her six grandparents the previous day, at 8pm little Luna (I was still using her "womb name") decided it was time for a drink - and had pretty much sucked for the next 14 hours. I had spent the night lying next to her, blinking away exhaustion and periodically setting her in her cot, only to see her eyes open, face turn side to side rooting for milk and arms and legs wave a distress signal. It was now midday and time for our baby, now almost 36 hours old, to go home. After our nocturnal marathon, there seemed no doubt that the breastfeeding was pretty much sorted; we'd managed a nappy change without getting tarry meconium in too many places and we'd learnt a couple of tips on sizing: that 'New Baby' nappies actually come in 4 sizes and you need the smallest ones at first, that the '0' in '0-3' should more accurately read ¾-3 (at least for smaller babies) and that the tiny clothes labelled 'Newborn' are not 'pointless'. So after packing our belongings, we carefully followed the instruction leaflet to get Luna settled into the stretchy wrap sling on my chest and headed out into the May sunshine. The next few days were a haze of milk and lavender baths, pint glass after pint glass of water and squash, mountains of cards and gifts arriving with the postman and the endless hours of feeding: in the daytime when Sally would bring me drinks and nutritious meals that my baby-fuzzy brain could not have worked out how to prepare; in the nighttime when I'd sit in the rocking chair, my lap a little overcrowded when the cat joined us as well. And the Catch-22: the virtuous circle of feed/sleep/feed/sleep which became a vicious cycle of feed/nappy change/feed/nappy change in our quest for a clean bottom. Despite the fuzzy brain, and the nights of feeding though, in those first two weeks, it was all going quite nicely for us. I'd been terrified about the prospect of caring for a screaming bundle of chaos. But little Luna (perhaps we'll stick with the womb name for now) seemingly perfectly content living at home with her two mummies, just wanted to drink and sleep - no screaming, no chaos. And then came Week 3... Article: by Lindsey, West Yorkshire 9th February 2013

Pride Angel Journey | Delivering the afterbirth

I knew this moment was significant. Standing in the birthing pool holding the baby that seconds earlier had squeezed its way out of me, I could hear the last bars of Morcheeba’s ‘Part of the Process’ playing as Sally leaned across the edge of the pool towards me for a photo. Click. And another lesbian family was born. So I savoured the moment, the birth of this child (there really had been a baby inside me all this time!) And I savoured the fact that the effort of labour was over. But the stinging pain between my legs was becoming a distraction and the water was suddenly very red. The midwife clamped the cord and offered Sally a section to cut through before they took the baby from me and helped me to clamber out of the pool. Feeling suddenly very naked, I eased myself down on to a large plastic letter ‘U’, stolen from Sesame Street. ‘U’ for uncomfortable. Unbelievably Uncomfortable. It seemed there was still a placenta to deliver and this was the place for it: known in the trade as a birthing stool. Holding again the little bundle of baby, having to push out a placenta, seemed rather a nuisance. But it soon slip-slopped out and I was finally able to prop myself on the bed where the midwife helped me with the babymouth-to-nipple angle. Then it was time for Sally – Mummy-Sal – to get some skin-to-skin bonding time while the midwife stitched up my second-degree tear: the source of the stinging. As the local anaesthetic had its effect I was able to relax while the midwife and Sally (who is a vet) had a genial discussion on the nature of my wound and various suturing techniques. And finally after the hours and hours of labouring and then the holding and feeding, and the stinging and stitching, it was time for sleeping; the three of us - two exhausted mummies and a baby too new to know how exhausted it was, settled down and slept. Article: Article: by Lindsey, West Yorkshire 9th February 2013

Pride Angel Journey | When a biro cross changes everything

At thirty-six weeks pregnant, I’d never been so grateful for the Easter holidays. We fitted the baby seat in the car, packed my hospital notes and went to visit my parents in Cumbria. On Easter Monday, determined not to let my depleted lung space and cumbersome bump hold me back, I joined the family (albeit slowly) climbing up Hoad Hill, near Ulverston. We watched children roll their ‘pace eggs’ – painted hard-boiled eggs – down the hill, a local Easter Monday tradition which I’d taken part in myself as a child. Another reminder of that distant world of childhood in which we were soon to be immersed: our little family – two lesbian mummies and baby. Two days later I was back at the hospital for my weekly scan. Amniotic fluid still low. Still under consultant care. Still down for induction at forty weeks. We e-mailed the sperm donor to update him: it had been a few months since we’d had contact and he was probably wondering how things were going. And I continued to drink pint after pint of water, just in case it might help. At thirty-eight weeks, I’d been away from work for thirteen days. Despite having waded through a large pile of A’ level coursework with my red pen, I was well-rested and I’d drunk enough water over the past week or so to fill a small lake. The radiographer handed me my notes and we shuffled through the paperwork to the fluid graph. A new biro cross, on the edge, but within the normal band. Excitement was starting to build. In the registrar’s office we could barely get the words out quickly enough: “Does this mean we can go to the birth centre?” That spa-like sanctuary, tucked away in the depths of the busy hospital. A little haven where I could crawl into a corner and give birth like a hunter-gatherer woman in the woods. “There’s no reason why not.” From what we’d read, it’s very difficult to take accurate readings of amniotic fluid levels. I don’t know whether I was once short of the stuff or whether the measurements were never actually reliable anyway. But we were back on track for our midwife-led intervention-free birth. Ecstatic, we almost skipped along the magnolia corridors to introduce ourselves at the birth centre. Article: 12th November 2013 by Lindsey, West Yorkshire Read more Lesbian parenting blogs at www.prideangel.com

Pride Angel Journey - Hunter-Gatherer Aspirations

It was Christmas and I was twenty-two weeks gone when I decided that we’d timed this pregnancy perfectly (I say ‘we’ – of course aside from putting the raw ingredients together and hoping for the best, ‘we’ can hardly take the credit for my body deciding it was about time to have a go at the baby thing). Anyway, the timing was certainly perfect: thick support tights aimed at preventing varicose veins were ideal for the frosty wintery weather; I‘d been over the sickness long enough to regain a hearty appetite for my Christmas dinner and I was still comfortable enough at night to sleep on a blow-up mattress at the family get-together, after watching the Christmas Special of Call the Midwife. It had made a change that morning to put on my black JoJo Maman Bébé maternity dress – one of the few maternity items I’d actually bought. Aware that university tuition fees were looming (well, in eighteen years or so) we’d been keen to save money, and a friend had kindly leant me a stack of clothes. Still, I spent the best part of six months alternating mostly between four pairs of maternity trousers: jeans, tracksuit bottoms, work trousers and pyjamas. So it was nice to put on a dress for a change, and to show off the nifty breastfeeding feeding holes which were revealed when you loosened the waist ties. And with Christmas came of course the reminder of how much more fun it would be next year. In my family, Christmas had been for far too long an adult affair. It was hard to imagine it any other way and, so inexperienced where babies were concerned, we wondered how exactly it would change: what would our little person – this little creature which squirmed and shuddered under my skin – be doing next December? Could eight-month-olds eat mince pies or open presents or have any real idea of what was going on? We didn’t know. We were still reading the pregnancy books and hadn’t quite made it on to the parenting ones. Somehow, in addition to the more mainstream titles we’d ploughed through, my partner, Sally (who was always two or three books ahead of me, and thus by far the better informed regarding this whole pregnancy lark) came across a publication entitled Immaculate Deception II: Myth, Magic & Birth. We knew from watching One Born Every Minute that some of the book’s claims were now rather dated – enemas and pubic shaving are no longer the order of the day, and you aren’t automatically drugged as high as a pile of nappies and hitched up into stirrups with four gown-wearing doctors brandishing forceps and peering at your nether regions. Nevertheless, it certainly showed us the benefits of aiming for a more natural approach: limited use of drugs, a midwife-led, active birth. A calm and gentle welcome to the world for our baby. I could see the point of those birthing pools and stools: squatting and groaning, rather than lying flat on a bed and screaming was perhaps how our bodies had been designed to deal with this. I was reminded of how a cat or dog will go off to find a quiet, safe place to snuggle down and give birth – surely this, and not furnishing the spare room with a Mamas and Papas furniture set in Light Oak, is ‘nesting’. The book encouraged me to think about what our ancestors must have done – not our mothers and grandmothers, but our Hunter-Gatherer ancestors. They managed without the medics – not all of them of course – childbirth must have been a very risky business. But enough of them managed – well, we’re here now, aren’t we? I interrogated friends who already had children and listened to one birthing horror story after another: tales of non-progressing labours, anaesthetists busy elsewhere, epidurals not working, morphine and forceps and third degree tears. And while of course I knew how grateful we are to those medics when an emergency caesarean saves two lives, I wondered how feasible it was to hope for a natural birth. I would probably only get one opportunity to do this thing – this fundamental process of birthing, for which my body had been designed. And somehow, I wanted to acknowledge all those Hunter-Gatherer mothers of yore who slipped off into a quiet corner of the forest without drugs, hospitals or anything but a knowledge passed on time and again, one woman to the next. Part of me felt I could do this, I could be that Hunter-Gatherer woman, squatting in the forest – nowadays we aren’t as physically fit as they would have been, or as accustomed to manual labour, but I was healthy enough. How can pain relief be so essential in a normal childbirth when we’ve only really had it in the last one hundred years? But would my pain threshold be too low to cope? And if there were complications, was there a way of preventing one intervention from leading to another? Did the best laid birth plans of mice and birthing women gang aft to pethidine? Meanwhile it was January and the pelvic pain that was starting to set in was tempered with the knowledge that maternity leave was now only a school term away. But, at the end of a silent corridor of a school after home-time, rooting around in a dusty old storeroom, unearthing cobwebbed textbooks from ancient shelves, it occurred to me that perhaps this was the quiet spot my Hunter-Gatherer woman would have chosen. Article: by Lindsey, West Yorkshire 30th August 2013 Read more personal stories from our Pride Angel Journey at www.prideangel.com

Ellen DeGeneres denies Sperm Donor Rumors

Rumors have been circulating that Ellen DeGeneres and Portia De Rossi want a baby and to start a family together. DeGeneres recently shot down those rumors, insisting that the couple aren’t planning on kids, indeed, that they don’t even want them. DeGeneres appeared on The Tonight Show With Jay Leno on September 6 and was asked by host Jay Leno about the ongoing rumor that she is looking for a sperm donor in order to start a family with Portia De Rossi. The 54-year-old daytime talk show host denied the speculation with her usual deadpanning manner. “I heard you and Portia are having a baby,” said Leno. “Is this true?” “I’m here for your sperm,” DeGeneres joked. “That is not true. I don’t know why people want this. I’ve said it so many times: We are not going to have a child. And they say that we’re looking for the right donor. Although, you would be a good donor, so I’ll keep it in mind, just in case. I mean, it would have beautiful blue eyes, and a good sense of humor and a good shot at a NBC show. We would do well.” DeGeneres and De Rossi were married in their home in the summer of 2008 in the brief window of time during which same-sex marriage was legal in California. DeGeneres insisted that she has no problem with kids; she just doesn’t particularly want them herself. “I don’t want to have one. I don’t want to have six. I don’t want to have any,” DeGeneres said. “They’re precious to look at and I love them; we have nieces and I love them very much … don’t want ‘em.” DeGeneres has battled baby speculation before, notes MSN Wonderwall, joking in her 2011 book Seriously… I’m Kidding that she couldn’t have kids because “there is far too much glass in our house.” Do you think that Ellen DeGeneres and Portia De Rossi would be good parents if they ultimately decided to pursue a family? Article:7th September 2012 www.inquisitr.com

Happy mother's day to all the new mums

Happy mother’s day to all the new mums out there. We at Pride Angel wish you wonderful day full of fun and love with your new bundles of joy.
If you have being trying for a baby for a while becoming a new mum or mums does feel extra special, and the gift of a baby feels even more precious.

We want to say a big thank you to all of you who have recently sent in your baby photos, please take a look at all the beautiful baby pictures in our gallery.

Our baby photo competition is open to everyone and gives you a chance of winning a £50 mothercare voucher for the winner and a £20 mothercare voucher for the runner up.

If you would like to submit your baby’s photo, please email it to us; click here to find out more about it.

Choosing the winner will be a difficult decision so please help us by letting us know your favourite, just contact us giving the name and age of the baby you would like to win.

And for all you hoping to become mums in the near future we wish you much happiness in your journey to parenthood.

Lesbian couple talk about their journey to parenthood

Lesbian couple talk to Chicago Tribune about their experiences of becoming parents:
At first glance, Jennifer Snyder and Linda Borchew could not have been more different. Borchew grew up in Des Plaines and is Jewish. Snyder was raised Presbyterian in a one-stoplight town in central Illinois.

Back in 1997, they were students with a shared passion for women's softball. Their relationship started like many: a deep friendship that blossomed into something more.

Ten years later — on Jan. 4, 2007 — the high school administrators married at Niagara Falls, Canada, and they settled into blissful domesticity on a quiet residential street in Hoffman Estates.

"My dad said that the hardest part was that he'd never get to be a grandfather," Snyder said. But the women, now 37, had no intention of forgoing parenthood. Still, it took five years and more than $50,000 to reach their goal. Said Borchew: "We had no idea what we were in for."

Thirty years ago, same-sex couples started having children in ever-increasing numbers. Today, they still face a mixed bag of challenges when forming families, whether by adoption or reproductive technology, advocates say.

While some of the obstacles Borchew and Snyder encountered were no different than those experienced by infertile straight couples, others were a result of the nation's patchwork laws and lingering hurdles for same-sex couples. The couple gave the Tribune an inside look at the highs and lows on the path to parenthood for same-sex partners.

Currently, 19 percent of gay men and almost 50 percent of lesbians have a child, according to the the National Opinion Research Center's 2008 General Social Survey. As more states recognize same-sex marriage — Maryland became the eighth this month — while others have murky laws, the number of potential child-rearing headaches are bound to increase, experts say.

For Borchew and Snyder, their status informed nearly all their decision-making, such as where they'd deliver, lest they find themselves at a hospital that didn't recognize their union.

"If you create your family and don't fit into a typical pattern, you're going to have some holes in your legal relationship that you didn't even know about," said Jill Metz, a Chicago attorney who specializes in lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender cases. "It's a constantly evolving and very tricky situation."

In the beginning, the women knew they'd need hefty resources to have a baby. They didn't realize that they'd need deep reservoirs of patience, as well. First, they struggled to find an OB/GYN willing to do inseminations, as some medical personnel are uncomfortable working with gays or lesbians, they said.

"There's a reason that many lesbians make jokes about using a turkey baster at home," Snyder noted dryly. Eventually, they found their way to Chicago Women's Health Center, where Borchew's eggs were combined with donor sperm, then implanted into her womb.

Read more ....

Lesbian couple give birth just five days apart using hairdresser sperm donor

TYING the knot in matching gowns, tiaras and hairstyles, lookalike lovers Anna Jones and Kirsty Cox were the picture of happiness But, a shadow of sadness marred the joy of the new Mrs and Mrs – they both dreamed of being a mum and feared it could never happen for them.
Anna, 28, and Kirsty, 23, loved caring for their little nieces and nephews but, unable to afford expensive fertility treatment, knew they would never be parents themselves. Until Anna’s sister Lorraine mentioned their plight to her hairdresser, Brian – and he agreed to help create their family.

With a sperm donor miraculously in place, the grateful couple decided to take it turns to try for a baby – expecting a long wait. But to their amazement Anna and Kirsty got pregnant within two weeks of each other, and gave birth just five days apart. Kirsty had daughter Scarlett-Marie, and then Anna produced son, Alfie. Now the pair are proud parents to two babies who are often mistaken for twins.

Beaming, Anna told the Mirror: “We are overjoyed. We’ve now got the perfect family although this time last year we thought we’d never have children of our own. “Brian has given us a wonderful gift and we are so grateful to him. It was a chance in a million that my sister’s hairdresser was thinking of becoming a sperm donor. “And the chances of Kirsty and I both getting pregnant at the first attempt must be pretty remote too!”

Anna and Kirsty, who live in Gloucester, had been together for six years but became civil partners in June 2010. Anna says: “It was the happiest day of our lives. But once we were married it brought home how much we wanted to be parents. “Every time my sisters’ children came to stay I’d tuck them into bed thinking, ‘I wish we could have a little one of our own’.

“We weren’t able to afford fertility clinics and knew we could be on the NHS waiting list for years. “We knew we’d make great parents, but told ourselves it probably wouldn’t happen and just had to accept it.” And that was that until sister Lorraine went to have her hair done and opened up to Brian.

Anna recalls: “Kirsty and I were watching TV when she got a text from Lorraine saying she’d found us a donor. “I thought Lorraine was just having us on and said, ‘Oh yeah?’ very sarcastically.” But moments later Anna’s phone rang. Anna says: “Lorraine told me her hairdresser was gay and understood how difficult it was for couples like us.” A week later Brian called round for tea.

Anna says: “He asked us loads of questions. Then he said we were lovely people and deserved the chance to be parents. “He didn’t want payment and he was happy to have no involvement in the child’s life if that’s what we wanted, so we knew there was no ulterior motive.” After a few more meetings and Brian proving he was in good health, the threesome agreed to start trying for a baby. But there was one problem.

Anna explains: “We both wanted to experience carrying a child and giving birth. So we decided it was fairest to take it in turns until one of us got pregnant.” The couple went online to learn how to artificially inseminate themselves using the donated sperm and a syringe, but when Brian arrived on the day were all nervous. Anna says: “We were giggling and kept chatting because we felt uncomfortable. But then I said, ‘Right, shall we get on with it?’ “I handed Brian a plastic beaker we’d bought especially for the job and Kirsty and I went into the bedroom and waited.”

Later, after they thanked Brian and he left, the couple agreed that Kirsty would go first and Anna did the insemination. Anna goes on: “Afterwards Kirsty lay on the floor with her feet up against the wall because we read that would increase the chances. I just thought this is never going to work.” A couple of weeks later Brian visited again for Anna. Then, a few days later Kirsty’s period was late. A first pregnancy test was negative, but the next day she did it again and was thrilled to find she was pregnant.

Anna recalls: “We were jumping around the kitchen with joy. We simply couldn’t believe this had happened on our first attempt.” Then two weeks later Anna started to get bad cramps. She says: “Kirsty kept joking that I was pregnant. But I thought ‘There’s no way.’ “But when my period didn’t arrive I did a test too. Positive. “We were in shock. I sent Brian a text telling him the news. He replied ‘Congratulations. I’m so happy for both of you’.

“When I went with Kirsty for her first scan the midwife thought we were sisters because we look so much alike.” And being pregnant together really strengthened their relationship. Anna says: “We got to feel each other’s bump when the babies started to kick. And it brought us even closer as a couple.” When Kirsty’s due date came and went they grew anxious. Anna says: “I kept telling her to hurry up because I was due soon.”

Anna and Kirsty wanted to be there for each other when the babies were born. But they became worried when the midwife told them they might go into labour at the same time. Anna recalls: “She said because we were two women living together our hormones were probably in sync.” At 16 days overdue, Kirsty went into hospital to be induced. Anna was by her side. Anna says: “She was squeezing my hand and I could feel my baby kicking. I was telling her to push but I felt scared because that was going to be me soon.” After 16 hours in labour, Kirsty gave birth to Scarlett-Marie. Anna says: “I held her and was laughing hard because she had little pursed lips just like Kirsty.”

Kirsty and Scarlett-Marie were kept in hospital for a couple of days before they could return to their home where Brian showed up at the front door with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. But later that day Anna started getting pains and the next day they were back at the hospital. Anna recalls: “This time around it was Kirsty holding my hand and telling me to breathe in and out.” After 48 hours in labour, Anna gave birth to her baby, Alfie. Anna says: “It was just absolutely amazing. Two babies born just five days apart.” Scarlett is now 11 weeks old and Alfie is just over 10 weeks.

Anna says: “We are loving every minute of being parents. We love watching them lying together and cooing to each other. It’s totally beautiful to see the bond between them. “And Brian visits the children almost every week. He is happy to be called Daddy, if that’s what we want. “When the children are older we will tell them that they were his amazing gift to us. We are just so grateful he helped us both become mums.” Brian’s name has been changed to preserve his anonymity.

Article: 23rd January 2012 www.mirror.co.uk

Pride Angel would like to hear about your fertility and parenting experiences

Pride Angel wants your feedback - Receive £150 mothercare vouchers for FREE
Having babies and toddlers can be expensive as they just keep on growing. Imagine what you could buy with £150 Mothercare vouchers, a endless supply of nappies, new baby clothes, a new pushchair, whatever you would buy, the choice is entirely yours!

How to get your free vouchers? Pride Angel would love to hear about your experiences, whether you have:

• Found a donor through Pride Angel?
• Got pregnant using a Pride Angel insemination kit?
• Starting the journey to parenthood and considering different options?
• Co-parenting with a single person or gay couple?
• Used a friend as a sperm donor?
• Using IVF treatment or going through surrogacy?


Are you willing to write a small blog/article about your personal experiences in the region of 200-500 words? Personal names do not need to be included if you prefer not to.

The best article will be published on Pride Angel and will be rewarded with £150 mothercare vouchers. Any other articles which we may choose to add to Pride Angel will be rewarded £50 in mothercare vouchers.

Speak to us for more information, just contact us. Enter your article by email: info@prideangel.com

This promotion is available until 30th November 2011. All entries will be replied to by the Pride Angel team.